


Leaving Well Enough Alone

by shungokusatsu



Series: There’s Something About Parrish [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Basically some flip-flopping, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Bottom Theo Raeken, Breeding, But not in the way you’d expect, But the Hellhound part isn’t known yet, Canon Compliant up to 5A/Episode 10, Explicit Sexual Content, Fuckboy!Stiles, Gratuitous Smut, Hellhound Jordan Parrish, It gets really raunchy, Knotting, M/M, More tags to be added if I remember, Mpreg (Implied), PWP, Parrish is hung AF, Past Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stiles is a size queen, Then it just goes off the rails, Theo's status as a chimera is still a secret at this point, Top Jordan Parrish, Top Stiles Stilinski, Top Theo Raeken, dubcon, match made in heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shungokusatsu/pseuds/shungokusatsu
Summary: The thing Stiles doesn’t take into account, no matter how many times Scott had to remind him evenbeforehe received the ‘gift of the bite’ from Derek’s psycho uncle, is that his ability to sneak around like a ninja was non-existent. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Parrish noticed him slinking about like Darkwing Duck. But honestly,how? The guy was practically walking around like Monterey Jack following his nose to the scent of cheese. One moment Stiles is following him,ninjainghis way around the lot, because fuck Scott, he’s wrong. The next he’s lifted into the air by the collar of his hooded henley and pressed firmly (slammed, really, but the less said about that, the better) against the side of the police van — the same one that was carrying the bodies of the latest batch of dead chimeras.And honestly, what the fuck is it about supernaturals and their propensity for slamming him into things?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The obligatory “I don’t own the characters, just writing this for fun, etc.” disclaimer. And also, practice safe sex!

Stiles is the first person to admit to anyone who lends him an ear that he doesn’t know how to leave well enough alone. Most of the time, it’s Scott. Although in Scott’s case, he’s usually telling Stiles this before he gets a chance to say so himself. Sometimes (read: most of the time), Stiles doesn’t think things through before doing them. It’s kind of his trademark. Realization that he should’ve often comes when it’s too late — that’s just the way he rolls, man.

Following Jordan Parrish to the impound lot after he bent the steel bars of his holding cell and walked through the station like he was in some sort of trance? Probably not one of his brightest ideas. But one Stiles will ultimately come to love.

The lot isn’t guarded. It’s something he’s sure his father has gotten flack for, but considering that there’ve been no incidents here since he became sheriff of Beacon Hills, the manpower was allocated elsewhere and cameras were installed. Either way, they’re far enough in the back that _if_ there had been an officer on duty, they would barely hear anything. That’s just Stiles’ luck, apparently.

It wasn’t common knowledge amongst the pack yet what type of supernatural creature Parrish was. Witnessing the way the deputy’s clothes burned off, conveniently leaving him in only his underwear left Stiles’ throat feeling drier than Death Valley. Seriously, what sort of fire-retardant material was that thing made out of? Stiles vividly remembers that day Parrish walked into the station moments after Haigh tried to barbecue the poor guy. It was a moment Stiles filed into a permanent section of his memory bank. You know, for occasions he found himself doing the five-knuckle shuffle. Which, for Stiles, happened on a daily basis. Sometimes more than once.

The thing Stiles doesn’t take into account, no matter how many times Scott had to remind him even _before_ he received the ‘gift of the bite’ from Derek’s psycho uncle, is that his ability to sneak around like a ninja was non-existent. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Parrish noticed him slinking about like Darkwing Duck. But honestly, _how_? The guy was practically walking around like Monterey Jack following his nose to the scent of cheese. One moment Stiles is following him, _ninjaing_ his way around the lot, because fuck Scott, he’s wrong. The next he’s lifted into the air by the collar of his hooded henley and pressed firmly ( _slammed_ , really, but the less said about that, the better) against the side of the police van — the same one that was carrying the bodies of the latest batch of dead chimeras.

And honestly, what the fuck is it about supernaturals and their propensity for slamming him into things?

The look in Parrish’s eyes is vacant. They’re glowing that fiery orange, and there’s soot all over his face and body but otherwise, the guy is _still_ devastatingly handsome. None of this is fair.

Stiles off-handedly notices that the air is very thick and warm around them, much like it was in the station. This _can’t_ be the arousal he’s feeling, because Stiles will take his fetish for guys showing off superhuman levels of strength to the grave. Not even _Scott_ knows, and he plans on keeping it that way.

“P-Parrish, hey! Take it easy! It’s me, Stiles!”

Parrish actually stops, as if his voice sparked recognition. The deputy doesn’t let go of his shirt, nor does he speak. Instead those eyes rove over him from head to toe, and Stiles really, _really_ shouldn’t have found that sexy. But he did. He chalks it up to the unbridled libido of being a teenager, coupled with the fact that he was in such close proximity to this physical specimen. Derek might have been more muscular, but Parrish is no slouch. He notices Parrish’s eyes glow brighter after the deputy takes a deep breath. He’s never heard of werewolves with orange eyes, but is the deputy one, too? Scott’s admonished him a few times about how he stinks of arousal around Derek or in the locker room, and if Parrish can smell it too, then he’s fucked.

Stiles doesn’t realize at this moment in time just how much.

Parrish inches closer, and Stiles _swears_ he can hear the deputy sniffing him. His pulse is hammering in his ears, but he’s pretty sure he can hear _that_ , and it’s definitely not lost on Stiles that the underwear barely containing Parrish is becoming obscenely tented. He’d always wondered what that thing looked like hard, and Stiles is torn between being impressed and terrified at how big it actually became. _Definitely bigger than Derek_ , but Stiles will not be sharing that information with anyone, least of all his favorite fuckbuddy (except maybe Lydia, because well, _it’s Lydia_ ). Derek’s psyche is complicated enough and doesn’t need Stiles telling him his dick isn’t the biggest he’s ever seen anymore — no one needs that kind of ego check, even if the only contact he has with Derek these days is through Skype.

“H-Hey, Parrish, snap out of it, man,” he stammers. Stiles can feel the deputy’s breath against the back of his ear, taking lungfuls of his scent. It’s not unlike what Derek used to do to him from time to time, and it gets Stiles to thinking. He places his hands on Parrish’s chest, noting how firm those pectoral muscles felt under his fingers. Similar to Derek, and Stiles can’t help make comparisons between the two — Derek’s being more beefy and hairy; Parrish’s smooth, but no less solid. Stiles gives the deputy’s chest a squeeze instead of pushing him away, because what the hell, turnabout is fair play. If Parrish got to sniff; he got to cop a feel. Parrish suddenly jerks back, those glowing orange eyes fixed upon Stiles’ hands, almost as if he was appraising those long fingers. He does nothing to give Stiles the idea that he should stop.

The air is downright cloying now. Stiles is sweating; he _had_ been since he followed Parrish out of the department, but now it seriously feels like he’s standing in front of a furnace. It’s making Stiles lightheaded, and he can see that whatever is making his arousal spike is affecting Parrish, too. There’s no mistaking that the deputy’s hard now, given the way the elastic band is stretched so far out that Stiles can see the thick shaft. If there had been enough light, Stiles would’ve seen how wet the front of Parrish’s underwear was.

Throwing caution to the wind, Stiles reaches between them, wrapping his fingers around Parrish’s cock as he pulls it out. The deputy’s eyes follow his hand, but he stays motionless. It feels substantial and girthy; Stiles likened it to holding a bottle of Voss. It was easily as long as two soda cans stacked atop each other, most likely _longer_ , and the way the tip glistens with precum makes Stiles’ mouth water. The size queen in him is mentally writing letters of thanks to any god responsible for the deputy’s endowment.

Taking a quick scan of the lot to see where the cameras were situated, Stiles made a mental note to scrub the hard drives at the station as soon as he was finished here. Not only for the fact that Parrish was about to make off with two dead bodies and the police van containing them, but he also had to make sure there was no evidence of what was about to happen here.

And maybe save it in a USB drive because Stiles is definitely keeping this shit for posterity.

The deputy’s lips part, and Stiles can hear him panting slightly as he strokes Parrish. He sweeps his thumb across the weeping tip, using the precum collected there to coat the shaft. There’s plenty, and soon Stiles has the shaft glistening. The sound of his hand wetly sliding back and forth is audible and filthy. It’s only at this point that Stiles notices his own discomfort; his own cock trapped against grey denim. There’s definitely a wet spot where the head of his cock is straining against the material, and Stiles curses himself for leaving his backpack in the jeep. Mostly, for the lube he kept in the front pocket.

Shrugging, Stiles pushes his jeans down as he kneels, sighing in relief when he finally frees his cock. It’s aching and begging to be touched, but Stiles is more than happy to pass on that. He gives it plenty of attention daily, and right now he has something much bigger to play with. Taking Parrish’s underwear and rolling it down to his ankles, Stiles yelps when the deputy’s cock slaps him on the cheek. He glares up at Parrish for the affront, only to find orange eyes peering down, handsome features emotionless — the lights are on, but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s home. He can’t be mad at that, so he shifts his attention back to the deputy’s cock. It’s thick and heavy and everything that makes Stiles’ mind short-circuit, and now more than ever, he wants to mount Parrish like a Clydesdale and ride him until he’s ruined.

A part of Stiles feels like he shouldn’t be doing this. He was taking advantage, wasn’t he? He facilitated everything that’s happened so far, and while Parrish didn’t exactly object to it, he didn’t exactly give Stiles permission, either.

“Parrish. Can you...understand me?” he asks, giving Parrish’s cock a long stroke from base to tip. The precum that drips down from the slit pools onto the ground, but Parrish says nothing. 'Some part of him must be conscious in there, otherwise he’d say something,' Stiles tells himself. As if to reassure him further, he feels Parrish’s cock jump in his grip, more precum coming to the surface. Stiles can deal with the consequences of what he’s about to do later; he can no longer ignore the way Parrish is wordlessly begging him to give his cock attention.

Stiles opens up wide, wrapping his lips around the large head of Parrish’s cock. It’s perfectly shaped, as wide as the shaft and tapering at the tip like an arrowhead. It hits the back of Stiles’ mouth and he gags. He’s deepthroated before, and the only real difference in size between Derek and Parrish seems to be the length. Actually, Parrish is thicker, too. It makes finally getting him into his throat a bit of a challenge, but Stiles powers through it. Derek’s a brutal facefucker, and Stiles had to learn fast to take that werewolf cock to the balls or die of asphyxiation. It was an end Stiles would have happily accepted, but just like with Dark Souls, he got good.

The taste of Parrish is addicting. His precum isn’t salty at all; it’s probably because all Stiles ever sees the deputy eat are pineapples and other fruits. He’s sloppy and slobbering all over Parrish’s cock. It’s tricky, and his jaw is starting to hurt, but inch by inch, he swallows the deputy whole. A few tears manage to squeeze themselves from his eyes and drip down his cheeks, because _fuck_ if Stiles didn’t do his best impression of a snake devouring its prey.

And rightfully so, Stiles feels triumphant. He’s got Parrish’s balls against his chin, and he’s getting long whiffs of the deputy’s crotch with each breath. Just like the rest of him, Parrish is neatly trimmed down there, and he smells like a mixture of ash and fresh, clean bodywash. A strange combination for sure, but understandable considering Parrish can apparently burn through his clothes for the plain fact that he’s _hot as fuck_.

Stiles is a little too proud of himself for that one and tries to chuckle with a throat full of cock. Anyone worth their salt in the world of sucking cock could’ve told him it was a big mistake. Stiles ends up coughing. It’s violent as he recoils, Parrish’s cock audibly leaving his mouth with a wet pop. He quickly takes it in his hand, doing his best to keep it from bobbing too wildly as he regains his composure. It’s a little disheartening that Parrish doesn’t check to see if he’s okay, but Stiles brushes it off.

He mindlessly brings his hand up to wipe away the drool when he suddenly remembers he has no lube. It’s raunchy, but Stiles gathers up his saliva, squeezing more precum into his palm from Parrish’s cock before he straightens up on his knees. He spreads his legs and reaches back, pushing the mixture into himself with two fingers as he takes Parrish back into his mouth. Derek would tell him at this point what a filthy slut he is. It would make Stiles so hard it’s dizzying, but the contrasting silence from Parrish is a little jarring. He does feel the deputy’s hips moving as he gets into a rhythm, and it quiets the static in Stiles’ head. At least he’s not doing _all_ the work here, but part of him still wants more.

Spit and precum are pathetic substitutes for lube, and Stiles knows taking Parrish is going to hurt, but he discovered long ago — when he started fucking Derek — that he was a bit of a masochist. That was definitely about to be put to the test. Because there was no way he was going to squander this opportunity to feel the deputy split him open with that cock. Given some of the times Derek nearly crippled him with his cock, Stiles figured he could take whatever the deputy could dish out.

Stiles’ cock is an angry shade of red from lack of attention. It twitches every time he pokes his prostate, precum collecting at the tip, but it’s nowhere near in abundance as what’s coming out of Parrish. Stiles figures that’ll help once they get started. Natural lube was much better than stopping every so often to apply more spit, but Stiles is a fan of the old ‘spit and shove,’ too. It just spoke to the lecherous side of him — feeling a thick wad of spit hitting his hole, forcing himself open with his hands to offer it to the cock that was about to be pushed inside.

Stiles is somewhat impressed he can negotiate all of this in his mind while he’s going to town on Parrish’s cock. He’s slurping and bobbing his head, a closed fist moving along the rest of the deputy’s length, going in the opposite direction from his lips. Occasionally he’d remove it, taking Parrish all the way down his throat. Stiles honestly can’t wait for this feeling of complete and utter fullness in his ass. It’s one of Stiles’ favorite things about getting fucked: being stuffed full of cock.

He’s breathless and flushed when he breaks away, standing and groaning as he pulls his fingers out. Stiles had been relishing feasting upon Parrish’s cock that he hadn’t realized he managed to nearly fist himself with four fingers. He lets out an embarrassing sound of surprise when Parrish grabs his wrist, bringing his hand toward his mouth so the deputy can suck on his fingers. Stiles notices a flicker in the deputy’s eyes. A ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ kind of flicker, almost like there’s an inner struggle for control.

Before Stiles can register that in his brain, he’s unceremoniously pulled from the van and whipped around. There’s a hand pushing the back of his neck, and Stiles complies. This is right up his alley. He’s now bent over on the hood of the car next to the van, and the sheer forcefulness of it makes him giddy. It’s a small preview, he’s sure of it, and he knows things are only going to get rougher from here, and that thought almost causes Stiles to bust.

The tip of Parrish’s cock presses against his entrance, and the moment he feels the deputy’s hands on his hips, Stiles decides to forego formalities and push back. He still remembers the times he caught Derek off-guard with this, impaling himself on the werewolf’s thick cock and the moan it would tear from Derek’s lips as Stiles takes him balls deep. He instead hears a growl come from Parrish and it’s definitely not the deputy’s _human_ voice. It sends a shiver down Stiles’ spine. He’s pretty sure it’s one more thing to add to the list of perverted stuff he shouldn’t find hot, but Stiles made peace with how much of a freak he was a long time ago.

Parrish feels like his cock never ends, and it stings. He splits Stiles open wider than even Derek, and fuck, he is _so deep_. He must’ve gotten bigger because Stiles is pretty sure he didn’t feel like this when he had him down his throat. And yeah, he’s taking Parrish raw. One thing Stiles has learned about the supernatural population of Beacon Hills — the ones who’d rather fuck than make a meal out of him? They’re safe to bareback. It’s a dangerous lifestyle that’s gonna catch up with him one of these days, and Stiles knows it, but he can’t fucking stand the way condoms feel. And there’s no better feeling than getting filled with cum. He realizes how that makes him look, but Stiles can’t bring himself to care.

Fingers dig into his hips, and he can already feel bruises forming, but Stiles loves it. There’s nothing he loves more than being manhandled and marked, and his hands scramble to find a steady grip on the hood. He settles for planting them as firmly as he can, hissing at the sharp sting of Parrish’s thrusts. Stiles would enjoy this a lot more if the deputy was talking dirty to him, whispering filthy things in his ear. Like calling him a slut. Or telling him he’s being used. Being _bred_. Stiles can’t help moaning at the thought of Parrish cumming inside him.

It literally feels like Parrish is pushing a burning log into his ass, but Stiles soldiers on. He’s taken poundings from Derek fucking Hale; he wasn’t about to let a bigger dick from his father’s most handsome employee psych him out of enjoying this. Stiles wants to tell Parrish how much he loves being stuffed. How fucking _big_ he feels inside him. The car is shaking beneath them, springs creaking as Parrish rails him. The sound of skin slapping skin is filling the air, accompanied by that supremely sweet sound Stiles has grown addicted to — the wet sound of Parrish’s cock pushing in and out of him. It’s a vulgar sound, for sure, but Stiles gets off on it so much.

“Fuck, Deputy, listen to that,” he starts, looking back, giving Parrish’s hip a squeeze. “Listen to that hole suck on that big dick...”

Parrish definitely growled back at him for that.

There’s still a bit of discomfort, but it quickly melts away. The sheer size of Parrish’s cock has Stiles’ eyes rolling to the back of his head. He can feel every ridge, every thick vein, especially the one on the underside Parrish is using to saw over his prostate, burning its shape into his memory. The deputy isn’t jackhammering into him; not yet, he hopes, but it feels like Parrish is all the way in his stomach every time Stiles takes him balls deep. It’s everything that makes Stiles happy, especially with how slick and smooth the deputy’s movements feel now. That precum is definitely working its magic, and the lewd sound of penetration filling Stiles’ ears is only making him lose his grip. He really doesn’t want to cum so quickly. Really wants to savor the feeling of getting plowed by Parrish and his fucking supercock.

“Fuck meeeee,” Stiles keens, loving the way Parrish’s thrusts seemed to pick up in speed and ferocity. He can definitely feel the way the deputy is pounding into him now, each pump of Parrish’s hips resulting in a loud smack of flesh coming together. Parrish is fucking him so hard that the sweat is flying off of their skin, and Stiles is pretty sure anyone within a radius of a thousand feet could hear them. His prostate is taking a battering from Parrish’s cock, and Stiles is really finding it hard to keep his eyes from crossing. It hurts so good, and he doesn’t want it to stop. He knows touching his cock now would end this.

The litany of curses spilling from Stiles’ lips would make a sailor blush. Derek would be beaming with pride for him right now. Telling him how good of a slut he’s being, how he’s taking Parrish’s big dick like a pro. And almost as if he can read his thoughts, Parrish seems to punish Stiles for having another man in his mind. He feels the deputy’s hands leave his hips, grabbing his wrists. Stiles pitches forward, his forehead bouncing off of the hood of the car. It’s not painful, but Stiles groans anyway at the suddenness. His wrists are being used to pull his ass toward Parrish’s body and the deputy roughly slams his cock home. Stiles can feel Parrish’s balls smack into his, and he can’t even hide how wantonly he’s moaning for him now. His mouth is hanging open, eyes glazed over as the bliss from being fucked so thoroughly threatens to break his mind.

The last time Stiles got fucked this hard, he was saying goodbye to Derek Hale. And somehow, that name appearing in his mind seems to get another rise out of the deputy. Stiles is sweating so much that he’s sure he’s gonna need about two 32-ounce Gatorades after this. Parrish seems dead set on pulverizing his prostate, and Stiles wouldn’t have it any other way. His own cock is slapping against the fender, and that contact is enough to push Stiles over the edge. He cums hard, so hard that he’s seeing stars as his hole seizes up around Parrish. The deputy seems to take that as a challenge and fucks harder into Stiles, making sure to wring every drop of cum from him as Parrish chases his own orgasm. It’s only then Stiles feels Parrish’s cock expand inside him.

No fucking way.

It fucking hurts. Stiles feels like Parrish somehow squeezed a grapefruit into him, and the deputy is still thrusting. To be fair, they’re shallow ones, but Stiles is convinced the deputy is a werewolf now. How the fuck else could the knot in his ass be explained? And then Parrish cums. He’s cumming so fucking much into Stiles that it’s like a steady stream. He notices right away that Parrish’s cum actually feels hot inside him. Not warm like Derek’s, but actually _hot_. Like almost scalding that it’s just a step below uncomfortable. The deputy’s so deep inside him that Stiles feels like he’s depositing all that semen directly into his stomach. He can feel it sloshing around inside him, and it’s kind of nasty. Shuddering breaths are all Stiles can hear from Parrish, and the sting of being stretched by the deputy’s knot is the only thing he can really focus on, other than feeling like he literally has a bucket’s worth of steaming cum inside him.

His shirt is clinging to him from sweating, and it’s grimy because of all the dirt on the hood he managed to pick up rubbing against it. Stiles feels gross. He knows it’s going to take anywhere from ten minutes to a half hour before Parrish’s knot subsides. His legs feel like Jello from the pounding Parrish gave him, and right now, all Stiles wants is to be curled up in his bed. So much for _that_ now.

The haze of climax clears from Stiles’ head somewhat when his phone starts ringing. It’s in the pocket of his jeans and there’s no way he can get to it right now. And then he remembers the text he sent right before he followed Parrish into the lot —

“Uh...Stiles...?” a familiar, confused voice says behind him.

Oh, _fuck_.

“Uhh...heeeeyyyy, Parrish.” Stiles can barely hide how utterly _wrecked_ he sounds.

“What’s — where am I? Why...—”

“Uh. Yeah, _about_ that,” he begins, looking back at Parrish. Huh. Stiles just noticed Parrish’s eyes are their normal shade of green now. But then, like the man wasn’t currently knotted balls deep inside him, Stiles continues, “I followed you out of the station and — oh, I forgot. I texted Theo and told him to meet me here. That’s probably him that just called. He’s probably on his way.”

Parrish looks at him like he had another head on his shoulders. Clearly it wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

“Oh and we fucked, you knotted me, and now we’re kinda stuck. Probably for about a half hour.”

“ _What?!_ ”

That...went about as well as Stiles thought it would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last thing Stiles needed to happen, happens. 
> 
> Or maybe he _did_ need it to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The work is largely self-beta'd, so if there're any mistakes, my bad. Also, Stiles isn't aware yet about Theo being a chimera, so he mistakenly assumes he's a werewolf.

Stiles probably could have explained the situation to Parrish a little better. But honestly, how could the guy not have known they had sex? Derek constantly told Stiles he was the best lay he ever had. One does not simply get paid a compliment like that by Derek Hale without there being an ounce of truth to it. _Look_ at the guy. And he kept coming back for more.

Parrish assures him he doesn’t remember a thing from the point when he fell asleep in his cell at the station. Can’t fault the guy for that. Now they just have to figure out what’s making Parrish go through these episodes. They still need to find out where the dead bodies are going. And why Parrish is taking them.

He gives Parrish a quick rundown of what happened since they left the station. Parrish, not surprisingly, recalls none of it. Stiles feels a little relieved that it’s not because the sex was forgettable. He’ll take any win he can in that regard because living with his insecurities is tiresome, especially since he started to believe Derek when he’d tell him how beautiful he is. _He’s fucking beautiful, damn it_. But still. A part of him is disappointed Parrish can’t remember the mind-blowing sex they just had. It creeps around the corners of his mind even though Stiles knows he shouldn’t let that bother him.

The deputy seems to take it in stride. Stiles offers his theory about Parrish being a werewolf, even though he hasn’t shown any other signs he could be one. He explains what knots are to the deputy, who blushes over the lurid descriptions. Stiles thinks maybe it’s not so bad that they’re spending this time catching the deputy up on the need-to-knows of his supernatural physiology. He could definitely be in this predicament with someone else and all things considered, he’s happy it’s with the deputy. Despite that however, Parrish gives an experimental withdrawal of his hips and Stiles squeaks as he’s pulled back with the deputy.

“Heyheyhey, relax!” Stiles hisses, reaching back and grabbing the deputy’s hip to stop him from moving. “We’re not going anywhere until your knot deflates, so just...don’t move, okay? It shouldn’t be much longer now.”

“Stiles, I’m sor—”

“Um. Am I interrupting something?” The snickering voice behind them sounds smug. Stiles and Parrish turn their heads simultaneously to see Theo standing there. Of course, the deputy panics because he literally just got caught with his pants down (with his dick inside of his boss’s son) and he tries to pull out again. This time he tries harder and Stiles screams because _fuck_ that hurt, but the only thing that happens is he’s helplessly ragdolled until he’s facing Theo. Theo _fucking_ Raeken. Who’s now losing his shit and laughing loud enough to wake the dead.

“So...what’s going on here?” Theo asks and the urge to punch his stupid pretty face is so strong that Stiles is tempted to risk tearing away from Parrish to do it.

“What the fuck does it look like?” Stiles shoots back. He’s so not in the mood for this. Theo’s a good fuck, but Stiles doesn’t like him outside of times he’s in need of a good pounding and Theo is the only option available.

“It looks like you’ve got your father’s deputy balls deep inside you,” Theo fires back, not missing a step in this back-and-forth with Stiles that he enjoys so much. Parrish’s face is pale, of course. He’s so dumbstruck about this whole situation that he apparently forgot how to speak.

“Theo, this is not what it looks like,” Parrish chimes in, but the knowing smirk on Theo tells them both he’s not buying it.

“Congrats, by the way,” Theo adds, leaning toward Stiles, “I know you’ve been wanting this for a while now.”

Stiles would wonder how the fuck Theo even knew that, but very little surprises him anymore. He adds eavesdropper to the annoying quirks that make up Theo Raeken. Just one more reason to stop having hate sex with the son of a bitch, but Stiles can’t help himself sometimes. He vows to be more discreet in the future because he can’t have enemies-turned-fuckbuddies-who-are-still-enemies knowing shit like this about him. It’s not good for business.

“He knotted me,” Stiles finally says, no longer bothering to hide the defeat in his voice.

“Oh-ho-ho, _did_ he now?” Theo chuckles. Of _course_ he’s going to be a jackass about this.

“Yesshuthefuckupandjusthelpus!” Stiles snaps. He could live with Scott seeing him like this. Hell, he might even have tolerated Isaac. Maybe. But Theo? He’s the absolute fucking worst person to catch him in this predicament — next to Jackson Whittemore but fuck that asshole, he’s in London.

“How the fuck do you get werewolf knots to go down without waiting for them?” Stiles asks, his eyes pleading now.

“What makes you think he’s a werewolf?” Theo responds, folding his arms across his chest. Stiles can’t deny he’s cute as fuck, but this is not the time to be fresh.

“What the fuck _is_ he then, genius?” Stiles retorts. Parrish bristles at their exchange. He must be frustrated that no one seems to know what he is, and this predicament doesn’t look to have a quick resolution.

“Fuck if I know, but I’ve been punched by other werewolves,” Theo answers, nodding his head toward Parrish, “He’s stronger.”

Ugh. And what the fuck was that? Did Stiles just...catch Theo making flirty eyes with — oh _hell_ no.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Parrish says when Stiles glares back at him. There was no mistaking the twitch he felt from Parrish’s cock.

“How about you wait until you’ve actually _pulled out of me_ before you think about the next hole you wanna fuck?!” he bellows. Stiles sounds a little more jealous than he means to be, but really, it’s only because _Theo_.

“Now now, Stiles. You’ve already had your _fill_ ,” Theo says because puns — he’s got them, “Let the rest of us have a turn.”

Stiles would punch that shit-eating grin off of his face if he was within reach.

“I can’t believe you’re even thinking about it,” he says to Parrish. The disappointment in his voice feels warranted. Stiles would absolutely be pouting right now if Theo wasn’t here. There are no orange eyes to make excuses for, this is _all_ Parrish.

“Whatever he is, it’s good to know he’s at least got libido to match,” Theo interjects. He rounds them both; Parrish looks at him nervously. The deputy feels like he wants to move so he can keep his eyes on Theo, and Stiles can relate.

“What are you — ahh!!!” Parrish moans when Theo suddenly presses a finger against his taint. It feels like the deputy cums even more inside Stiles before his knot subsides and Parrish pulls out. The sound the deputy’s cock makes as it slides out of his hole is vulgar, and Stiles can’t help but moan because he’s got a thing for the raunchier side of sex. It’s followed by the sound of semen splattering to the ground as it practically _spills_ out of Stiles, like gravy pouring out of a bottle. There’s so much; and Stiles silently curses to himself that he couldn’t keep it all in. He’s left gaping open, wider than he ever had, and part of him wishes Theo wasn’t here so he could have enjoyed the feeling of Parrish inside him a bit longer.

He notices immediately that Parrish is still hard because _of course he is_. It’s not lost on Theo, either. He’s on his knees and licking Parrish clean before the deputy can react, but the sound of the moan that spills out of the man tells Stiles he enjoys it. Stiles moves to pick up his jeans when he feels a large hand on his back.

“I wanna taste you,” Parrish says, and Stiles blinks at him like the words he spoke weren’t English. He’s pretty sure Parrish just invited him to stay and have a threesome with him and Theo. He can hear Theo gagging on Parrish’s cock now, and he tears his eyes away from the deputy to watch the smaller boy struggle getting Parrish down his throat. Theo’s mouth is smaller, and he has to spread his lips wider to accommodate Parrish, but he’s a trooper. Stiles appreciates just how much as he watches Theo fight another gag reflex before two-thirds of the deputy’s cock disappears into his mouth.

Stiles might as well make the most of this.

“Skull-fuck him; he likes that,” Stiles says with a smirk. Theo moans around Parrish and the deputy shoots Stiles an appreciative grin. He watches those green eyes watch him as he carefully steps out of his shoes and jeans. It’s a miracle Parrish’s cum didn’t spill onto his clothes, but Stiles isn’t about to question it. He leaves on the shirt because fuck it, it’s already dirty, and he climbs onto the hood of the car. Theo grunts when Parrish moves toward Stiles, but he doesn’t offer any more in the form of complaints. He simply crawls over so that he’s back to his position in front of Parrish, eagerly taking his cock back into his mouth. Stiles knows how voracious of a cocksucker Theo is, and he’s pretty sure Parrish is getting a good idea himself from the sounds Theo makes around the deputy’s cock.

Stiles rests on his knees and elbows, making sure his legs are far apart so Parrish can see just how much he left him gaping. There’s still an excess of cum leaking out of him, and Parrish growls at the sight of it. The deputy puts both hands on his ass, spreading him open wider before diving in for a taste. Parrish’s tongue feels warmer than what he’s used to, but Stiles loves it. His legs wobble at the way the deputy hungrily laps at his hole, like he’s desperate to pick up every drop of his own cum, and that thought makes Stiles feel his own cock pulsate back to hardness.

Parrish removes his hands and lets Stiles’ cheeks mush against his face. Stiles is in heaven. The deputy’s tongue feels like it’s trying to burrow its way inside him, and he hears Theo whimper. The other boy is slurping and gagging, and Stiles doesn’t have to look to know that Parrish finally followed his advice to take hold of his face and fuck it. Stiles almost feels sorry for Theo, but he knows how much the boy enjoys it, knows he’s got tears streaming down his face now as he’s forced to gag around the deputy’s massive cock. The sounds only turn Stiles on more, and he can’t resist bringing a hand between his legs.

He’s a little confused when he hears a sound like someone was banging their fist on the car. Stiles quickly figures out that it’s Theo’s head. Parrish stiffens his tongue and starts an alternating motion of shoving the rough organ as deep as it can go into Stiles before fucking Theo’s mouth. The sounds he and Theo are making fill the air and Stiles can’t help stroking his his cock to match the deputy’s movements. Theo’s moaning as he’s skull-fucked, and it’s honestly one of the hottest things Stiles has ever heard, partly because the boy’s head is bumping against the car as Parrish feeds him his cock. He’s lucky he’s a werewolf, or he’d probably be seriously concussed considering the way his head is bouncing off of the fender.

Stiles feels empty when Parrish pulls away from his ass, and he’s about to complain when he feels that hot tongue play with his balls. The deputy sucks them into his mouth one at a time, switching from one to the other, and Stiles is finding it very hard to keep from lowering his head onto his arms and begging Parrish fuck him with his tongue. Parrish relaxes his movements so he can focus on dragging his tongue from Stiles’ balls all the way up to his hole, repeating the motions like a dog licking its favorite toy. Stiles almost loses his mind as Parrish works him over with his tongue. He never expected the man could do _this_ considering what a goody-two-shoes he is at work.

From his position, Stiles can only see the top of Theo’s head and Parrish’s fingers wrapped around it. He wishes he could see more, like the way Theo’s holding Parrish’s cock at the base, and how his fingers aren’t touching because of how thick it is. He imagines the way the shaft is glistening with saliva, and judging from the way Theo is happily bobbing back and forth, he must be loving the way Parrish tastes. Occasionally the deputy remembers to pull Theo closer than the boy is willing. He growls in response when Theo makes a surprised sound and sputters. Stiles knows it’s for show, but the deputy is clearly enjoying the fact that the boy is choking on his cock.

Parrish pulls away again, but Stiles knows better to think he’s been abandoned. What he’s not expecting is Theo being hoisted onto the car and sliding under him. The tops of Theo’s legs bump against the backs of his and forces Stiles to sit on Theo’s cock. It narrowly misses entering him, and Stiles notices that Theo’s apparently shirtless. There’s shuffling behind them, and he figures Parrish must be wrestling the boy’s jeans off, and Stiles shrugs. He might as well make use of that hard cock, so he inches up and guides Theo to his entrance before sitting back with a moan. Theo’s about as big as Stiles is, but he’s got the perfect curve to his cock that hits Stiles’s prostate in this position.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Parrish mutters behind them, enjoying the view, no doubt. Stiles sits flush against Theo’s balls, looking back at Parrish, who’s now slowly stroking the monstrosity between his legs.

“Go ahead, Deputy, fuck him. His hole’s nice and tight,” Stiles says, and Parrish can’t help staring at him because the flush on his cheeks turns the deputy on something fierce. Theo’s hands find their way to his ass and the smaller boy spreads his cheeks apart so the deputy can see the way he’s splitting Stiles open. Theo’s cock twitches inside him, and Stiles looks down to see the boy smiling at him. It’s moments like these they forget they hate each other, only caring about what their bodies can get out of one another. These are moments Stiles can live with. It reminds him of the times he spent with Theo before he went away. When he actually _liked_ Theo.

Stiles ends up leaning forward slightly when Parrish spreads Theo open for entry. He’s only using Theo’s spit for lube, but the boy actually likes the sting and burn of penetration, so he thinks nothing of it. Stiles studies Theo’s face carefully, knowing Parrish is bigger than anyone _either_ of them have had, and he commits the image to memory as Theo’s eyes and mouth widen when the deputy enters him. Stiles strokes his cheek, his own mouth falling slack from the way it makes Theo push into him, knowing Parrish is reaching depths inside him he didn’t know could be reached.

“Amazing, right?” Stiles asks, sweeping a thumb across Theo’s cheek. He can feel the boy’s fingers sinking into his flesh, leaving more bruises on his ass, and Stiles couldn’t be happier.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re huge,” Theo breathes out, his eyes squeezing shut when Parrish finally stops moving. “Jesus.”

Parrish says nothing. Stiles looks back to see a flicker of orange in his eyes, but it quickly fades back to the shimmering green he’s used to. The deputy’s throat rumbles a low growl at Theo’s words, and he gazes intently into Stiles’ eyes. Parrish’s attention shifts back and forth, looking at the way he’s got Theo buried to the hilt inside him, and back to meet his gaze. There isn’t enough light for Stiles to see how dilated Parrish’s pupils are, but that look tells him everything he needs to know: Parrish wants another piece of him.

Stiles moans as he turns his attention back to the boy beneath him. Theo’s face is one of pure pleasure, and he can only imagine the heaven Theo’s inner masochist was experiencing — he knew how much pain mixed in there from taking Parrish the way he did. Stiles shifts his hips, forcing the shorter boy to open his eyes. He can see how the feeling of being inside someone while simultaneously having someone inside him was doing a number on Theo’s brain. It must be amazing.

Another pair of hands settle onto his hips. Larger, with a tighter grip. He moans along with Theo as he’s guided on the boy’s cock. He can tell Parrish is moving along with them, enjoying the show they’re putting on for him. Stiles feels fucking fantastic because of the way Theo’s cock keeps pressing into his prostate. It’s sending bolts of electric pleasure shooting all over his body, and it’s got him steadily leaking precum. The three of them moan wantonly into the air, a cacophony of skin slapping into each other as Stiles is forced to seat himself onto Theo while Parrish ruts deeply into the shorter boy.

The air around them feels heavy and electrically charged. They’re all sweating heavily; it literally feels like they’re sitting in a sauna. The smell of sex is clinging to their skin, and Stiles can see the way Theo’s eyes are beginning to glow gold as Parrish fucks him. The rhythm between the three of them is making Stiles’ head spin, and soon he can also pick up the telltale sounds of penetration. He can hear the slick sound Parrish’s cock makes, no doubt leaking as much precum inside Theo as it did inside him, producing the most obscene noises.

“Fuck, I know you can hear that, Theo,” Stiles says, smiling down at the smaller brunette, “Your hole’s sucking on that big dick like it’s hungry for it.”

Stiles whines when he’s unceremoniously pulled off of Theo’s cock. He thinks he’s being punished for taunting Theo, but he’s about to explain to the deputy that wasn’t the case when his ass is pulled backward until he’s practically lying on top of the boy. Their cocks wetly slide against each other, and Theo sloppily kisses him. Stiles moans against his lips when he feels the thick girth of Parrish’s cock push back into him. He was already missing how good it hurt, but feeling the deputy slowly sink into him inch by inch makes him splatter precum all over Theo’s stomach. This is better than any porn Stiles has watched, and he grinds back against Parrish, filled by the deputy to the root as Theo takes both their cocks into his hand so they can fuck into it.

There’s only so much sensory input his poor brain can take, and Stiles is pretty sure it’s on the verge of turning to mush. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, and just when he thinks he can’t take anymore, Theo manages to pull his legs out from under Stiles. _Fuckfuckfucknofuckingway_. Parrish stops moving and stays buried to the hilt inside Stiles. He can feel that thick cock throbbing inside him, watching the way the deputy helps Theo spread his legs open so the other boy can take Stiles’ cock and position him for entry.

“ _Ohmygod_!” Stiles howls with pleasure. Parrish pumps his hips, forcing Stiles to seat himself inside Theo, and the dual sensations are threatening to shut down his poor brain. He hears the way Theo moans under him, but Stiles forces his eyes to stay shut. He knows looking at how utterly debauched Theo is will push him over the edge and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself and cum like an inexperienced teenager. Derek’s made sure he was past being that, but how the fuck was his body supposed to process how it feels to have Parrish balls deep inside him while Theo’s hole is feasting upon his cock?

“Go ahead, Stiles,” he hears, “Feed his hole while I fuck yours.”

It feels like Parrish is on fire behind him, but it’s only the deputy’s chest against his back. Stiles is pulled back until he can plant his feet onto the ground, and he can feel himself becoming addicted to the feeling of being stuffed by the deputy’s cock. He pulls Theo’s ass over the edge of the car, giving himself plenty of room to rut into the smaller boy. Parrish moves in tandem with him, pushing into him as he withdraws from Theo. The motion forces him to slam back into Theo and it rips a loud moan out of both of them. Stiles is amazed he holds out as long as he does, and it feels like forever as he goes to town on Theo’s ass while Parrish does the same to his.

He nearly blacks out from the intensity of his orgasm when it hits, and he relishes in a moment he seldom gets to enjoy: filling someone’s ass with cum. Parrish growls behind him as his hole clenches hard, his own cock twitching as he cums inside Theo. It’s an impressive amount in its own right, and Theo’s left leaking when Stiles carefully pulls out. His legs feel like they’re made of spaghetti and threaten to give out on him. Parrish seems to sense this and pulls out of Stiles so he can help him move to the side and sit on the part of the hood Theo isn’t occupying. Stiles hears the audible pop his hole makes when Parrish pulls out of him, and _fuck_ , does he love that sound. The feeling of emptiness Parrish leaves him with is almost ridiculous, and Stiles finds himself craving that feeling of being filled by the deputy once more, but he’s too tired and too content to care.

“Fuck me,” Theo begs. Any trace of smugness is gone from his face. Stiles has come to know that look pretty well in the past few weeks. He watches as Theo presents himself to Parrish, legs spread eagle as he pries open his leaking hole for the deputy. Stiles sees a flash of orange in those eyes again before Parrish moves forward and impales Theo on his cock once more. He can hear the way the deputy slides back into the boy’s cum-filled hole, and they both moan. Stiles knows Theo could cum at any second and decides to lend a helping hand by playing with his nipple.

The entire car shakes from the force of Parrish’s thrusts, and Stiles wonders if his body could take a pounding like this. Theo’s entire body ripples from the impact of their bodies coming together, and Stiles has to ease off of the car so he doesn’t thrown off. Theo’s moans are broken, the air being punched out of his lungs with each pump of Parrish’s hips. His face screws in pleasure as the deputy fucks the orgasm out of him, the first spurt coming out of his untouched cock before he brings down a hand to coax out the rest. He decorates his abs and chest with cum, his body uncontrollably trembling like he’s being electrocuted. Stiles knows how that feels — the way Theo clamps down. He can see the way it’s affecting the deputy, too.

Parrish doesn’t knot this time. He pulls out of Theo with a lewd slurp, and Stiles can’t help finding how enticing the deputy’s cock looks coated with his cum. Parrish strokes it fast, his hand moving like a blur as his hips move on their own accord, fucking into his fist. He throws back his head, his moans sounding more like they were coming from a wild animal. Thick ropes shoot out of his cock, looking like they were being shot out of a water gun as a few shoot past Theo’s head. His entire body shakes as he runs his hand along the thick length, careful to move over the supersensitive head as he painted Theo’s torso white.

“Holy fuck, your cum is _hot_ ,” Theo muses aloud, collecting what had dropped onto his chest and licking it up. Stiles’s eyes lock onto his, and he doesn’t hesitate when he sees the invitation in them to partake. He grabs Theo’s wrist and sucks on his fingers, moaning at the flavor that fills his mouth. He hears the deputy quietly curse behind him. Parrish pants heavily, looking like he can barely stand when he takes a step back. His cock looks like it can still go another round, so hefty that it points directly to the ground as it slowly — finally — softens.

Stiles’s phone starts ringing again, snapping him out of the sexual haze he’d been intoxicated in for the last god-knows-how-long. He shakily moves to collect it from his jeans, but it dies just as he looks at the screen.

“ _Great_ ,” Stiles sighs.

“Get dressed,” Theo says as he sits up to clean himself, “I’ll take you guys home.”

~*~

Stiles is thankful that his dad isn’t home when Theo drops him off. He’s dirty and he smells like dried cum. It’s not the most pleasant smell in the world, so despite his body’s protests about going straight to bed to hibernate, he forces himself to get cleaned up. He deposits his dirty clothes in his hamper after his shower and heavily sighs when he crashes into bed, grabbing his charging cable from the floor and plugging in his phone. Stiles rolls over on his back and stares up at the ceiling, allowing the events of the night replay in his head.

Damn. _Fucking Parrish_.

He’s distracted from his thoughts when his phone blinks back to life. Stiles groans because of a stupid glitch whenever he restarts his phone that doesn’t let Caller ID work and only displays the phone number. It’s one he doesn’t recognize. He clicks on the voicemail notification and unlocks his phone so he can listen to it. Stiles pinches the bridge of his nose; it’s probably just Theo letting him know he’d arrived.

“Stiles.” Oh shit. That’s not Theo’s voice; it’s Lydia’s. “Parrish is not a werewolf; he’s a Hellhound. If you have sex with him, do _not_ let him knot you. Hellhound semen can impregnate men, too.”

Oh, _shit_.

**Author's Note:**

> Left open-ended on purpose. Could have a follow-up. Thoughts?


End file.
